The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore
Chapter 112 : And soon he found 'twere vain to fly; His heart was close confined, For, every ri

And soon he found 'twere vain to fly; His heart was close confined, For, every ringlet was a tie-- A chain by beauty twined.

MERRILY EVERY BOSOM BOUNDETH.

(THE TYROLESE SONG OF LIBERTY.)

Merrily every bosom boundeth, Merrily, oh!

Where the song of Freedom soundeth, Merrily oh!

There the warrior's arms Shed more splendor; There the maiden's charm's s.h.i.+ne more tender; Every joy the land surroundeth, Merrily, oh! merrily, oh!

Wearily every bosom pineth, Wearily, oh!

Where the bond of slavery twineth Wearily, oh There the warrior's dart Hath no fleetness; There the maiden's heart Hath no sweetness-- Every flower of life declineth, Wearily, oh! wearily, oh!

Cheerily then from hill and valley, Cheerily, oh!

Like your native fountain sally, Cheerily, oh!

If a glorious death, Won by bravery, Sweeter be than breath Sighed in slavery, Round the flag of Freedom rally, Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh!

REMEMBER THE TIME.

(THE CASTILIAN MAID.)

Remember the time, in La Mancha's shades, When our moments so blissfully flew; When you called me the flower of Castilian maids, And I blushed to be called so by you; When I taught you to warble the gay seguadille.

And to dance to the light castanet; Oh, never, dear youth, let you roam where you will, The delight of those moments forget.

They tell me, you lovers from Erin's green isle, Every hour a new pa.s.sion can feel; And that soon, in the light of some lovelier smile.

You'll forget the poor maid of Castile.

But they know not how brave in battle you are, Or they never could think you would rove; For 'tis always the spirit most gallant in war That is fondest and truest in Love.

OH, SOON RETURN.

Our white sail caught the evening ray, The wave beneath us seemed to burn, When all the weeping maid could say, Was, "Oh, soon return!"

Thro' many a clime our s.h.i.+p was driven O'er many a billow rudely thrown; Now chilled beneath a northern heaven, Now sunned in summer's zone: And still, where'er we bent our way, When evening bid the west wave burn, I fancied still I heard her say, "Oh, soon return!"

If ever yet my bosom found Its thoughts one moment turned from thee, 'Twas when the combat raged around, And brave men looked to me.

But tho' the war-field's wild alarm For gentle love was all unmeet, He lent to glory's brow the charm, Which made even danger sweet.

And still, when victory's calm came o'er The hearts where rage had ceased to burn, Those parting words I heard once more, "Oh, soon return!--Oh, soon return!"

LOVE THEE?

Love thee?--so well, so tenderly Thou'rt loved, adored by me, Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty, Were worthless without thee.

Tho' brimmed with blessings, pure and rare, Life's cup before me lay, Unless thy love were mingled there, I'd spurn the draft away.

Love thee?--so well, so tenderly, Thou'rt loved, adored by me, Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty, Are worthless without thee.

Without thy smile, the monarch's lot To me were dark and lone, While, _with_ it, even the humblest cot Were brighter than his throne.

Those worlds for which the conqueror sighs For me would have no charms; My only world thy gentle eyes-- My throne thy circling arms!

Oh, yes, so well, so tenderly Thou'rt loved, adored by me, Whole realms of light and liberty Were worthless without thee.

ONE DEAR SMILE.

Couldst thou look as dear as when First I sighed for thee; Couldst thou make me feel again Every wish I breathed thee then, Oh, how blissful life would be!

Hopes that now beguiling leave me, Joys that lie in slumber cold-- All would wake, couldst thou but give me One dear smile like those of old.

No--there's nothing left us now, But to mourn the past; Vain was every ardent vow-- Never yet did Heaven allow Love so warm, so wild, to last.

Not even hope could now deceive me-- Life itself looks dark and cold; Oh, thou never more canst give me One dear smile like those of old

YES, YES, WHEN THE BLOOM.

Yes, yes, when, the bloom of Love's boyhood is o'er, He'll turn into friends.h.i.+p that feels no decay; And, tho' Time may take from him the wings he once wore, The charms that remain will be bright as before, And he'll lose but his young trick of flying away.

Then let it console thee, if Love should not stay, That Friends.h.i.+p our last happy moments will crown: Like the shadows of morning, Love lessens away, While Friends.h.i.+p, like those at the closing of day, Will linger and lengthen as life's sun goes down.